Part XII
They ate out of the Tupperware, passing the various containers around, sharing the grilled chicken, veggies and macaroni salad that Liv had sent home with his brother earlier. Dean didn't eat much himself, just picked a little here and there but he did manage to eat a slice of blueberry pie and drink some milk that he produced as well.
"I can't believe I'm saying it," Sam said as they each had their fill, "but I think I actually missed this." It had been such a long time since they'd all been together.
John looked truly surprised, but a pleased smile tugged at his lips. "Wasn't all bad was it, Sammy?"
"No." Asked in another tone, it may have rankled. But for once, Sam could only agree. It hadn't all been bad.
"Of course, the food was never this good," Sam said around a mouthful of pie. Too many times they staggered back to whatever temporary home they'd rented in the darkest hours of the morning, if not bruised and bleeding, then covered in the guts and goo of whatever supernatural creature they'd sent back to the underworld. More often than not, it was stale pizza and Doritos, or cold Chinese that made up their late night fare.
"Hey, you remember that time..."
It was inevitable that things turned nostalgic. While Sam did his best not to define memories based on a particular hunt, he soon discovered that for his brother (and father) it was simply how they catalogued most of theirs. Sam's reminder of the month they spent in Santa Cruz earned him a blank stare from Dean, until John subtly mentioned the water sprite that originally drew them there.
Dean listened for the most part, watching them quietly, content to be at the fringe of the discussion. Sam was careful to include him in the conversation and made frequent eye contact. He noticed John did the same. Dean laughed and smiled in all the right places, but every so often, his eyes lowered and a small crease appeared between his brows.
John and Sam shared a concerned glance and mutually tabled the walk down memory lane. Sam had hoped the discussion would spark more memories, not leave his brother looking lost and vulnerable again. Dean rubbed a hand over his face, trying unsuccessfully to stifle a yawn.
"Why don't you get some more sleep," Sam suggested.
Dean was already shaking his head before he finished. "Nah, might as well stay up. I’ve gotta get ready for work in a couple of hours anyway."
John and Sam shared another glance.
"Its 4:30 Dean." His father stood, encouraging Dean to do the same. "Get a couple more hours of rest." While he phrased it as a suggestion, John's tone of voice was more that's an order as he steered Dean toward the sofa.
Reticent, but too exhausted to argue, Dean sat down heavily. John's hand on his shoulder guided him the rest of the way, until he was lying on his back. Sam leaned in casually, resting his arms on the back of the chair at the end of the sofa by Dean's feet. John seated himself on the edge of the coffee table, next to his brother. Dean blinked slowly, his gaze travelling back and forth between them as he tried to stay awake.
"Sleep," John ordered. He ran his hand through Dean's sun-kissed spikes before gently sliding his hand down over Dean's eyes. "We'll be here when you wake up." Dean was out in less than a minute.
John removed his hand and just watched Dean sleep before finally looking over at Sam who found himself bristling before his father even opened his mouth.
"He's overwhelmed," John said. As if Sam didn't know that.
His glare must have conveyed that thought.
"Look," John said, surprisingly reasonable. "Just don't push him. Whatever happens, you've got to let it be on his terms."
Sam counted to ten. Tried to translate his glare of death to what is wrong with you?
"Do you honestly think I would push him into anything?" Sam asked. It was meant to be rhetorical.
John just looked at him meaningfully. Yes.
The glare returned full force.
"It's what you do, Sam. You push. You always have. Especially where Dean is concerned.
Sam straightened from his slouch over the chair, rounding it.
"And you'd know about that wouldn't you, Dad?" Sam asked heatedly. "Where do you of all people..."
Dean shifted restlessly, the beginning of a pout threatening sleep-smooth features.
Sam and John glared at each other accusingly. Sam let it drop. Though it was nothing new, the last thing Dean needed was for his father and brother to be at odds with each other.
"I'm going to make some coffee," Sam said with a little less heat, turning away from his father.
Around six-thirty, Sam was just beginning to doze in the recliner when Dean's cell went off. It startled Dean from his slumber, but he was immediately reaching for the phone in his pocket. Sam recognized Liv's ringtone.
"Hello," Dean's voice was fuzzy with sleep, the heel of his free hand coming to rest on his temple.
John hovered in the entryway to the kitchen, a cup of fresh coffee in his hands.
"Better," Dean responded to Liv. "No, no, I'll be there. Really, everything's fine..."
Dean listened quietly to Liv, his voice soft and quiet as he responded to her concern. "I know. Yeah..." He trailed off, obviously uncomfortable with what she was saying.
Sam got up and made his way to the kitchen, giving his brother the illusion of privacy. John got the hint and followed him, though they could still hear the one sided conversation. Whatever Liv was saying, she made a point of keeping it short and sweet because the tone of Dean's voice changed and they both knew he was talking to Isabella.
"I missed you too, Darlin’,'" he said. Sam could hear the genuine smile in his voice as he talked to his daughter. "Yes, much better." A pause. "I know. Yes. Mmm, hmmm. Okay." A slight warning crept into his voice, "Izzy B." Silence, followed by a sigh. Sam wasn't sure what that was all about, but wasn't too worried by it when a surprised but tired laugh escaped his brother, then, ”I love you too." Another pause, "Yes, Spooky too."
Sam saw John's smile stretch around the rim of his mug as he took a sip of his coffee.
"I'll see you at Miss Chloe's on my way to work, okay?" Dean assured Isabella, and then added with a chuckle, "Not if I see you first."
"Hey," Dean was obviously talking to Liv again. "Yeah. Okay. Thanks. See you soon."
Dean was sitting up when Sam and John entered, feet on the floor, elbows on his knees, cradling his head.
"You sure you're up for going in today?" Sam asked
"Yeah, I'm fine. Just a little tired." Dean admitted. "Besides, I've got to finish reworking the transmission in the Chevelle. Jorem's picking her up tomorrow for a show next weekend."
"You, ah, think you might need a hand with that?" John asked, a little tentatively.
Both Dean and Sam gaped at him. Sam in shock, Dean with this wide-eyed look of complete devotion. "Yeah," he swallowed, "that'd be great."
Then reality set in and Dean frowned, looking uncertain.
John seemed to understand and get it before Sam did. He crouched down next to Dean. "It's okay. You're friends with Sam. Sam works for you. Sam's dad just happened to show up in town unannounced...and Sam's dad just happens to know a thing or two about cars," John said with a grin.
Dean cautiously returned it.
"It doesn't have to be anything more than that until you're ready. This is your gig. Sam and I will take our cues from you."
Dean relaxed a little at the reassurance.
Sam and John went back to the hotel to shower and change for work, leaving Dean to do the same. With time to spare, they headed to Smitty’s diner for some breakfast, passing the Impala parked at Miss Chloe’s on the way.
Dean was waiting for them when they arrived at the garage. He looked tired, but the early morning nap and hot shower had done him a world of good. He was refreshed and noticeably pleased at John's presence. Not that Sam felt old hat or anything, but he'd been working with Dean for a few months now. He could tell that having Dad there was a novelty that Dean was fully prepared to enjoy.
Rand opened one of the large bay doors and joined them. He eyed John, curious but friendly, as he approached. Sam figured Dean had given him a heads up that they'd have some additional help today. John, for his part, was downright cordial, shaking off his often aloof nature and chatting with Rand like he actually cared what the man thought of him. Dean watched the exchange with a small smile. That, in and of itself, was enough for Sam to stop staring and just go with it. It was going to be an interesting day.
"Dean, honey, are you..." Liv came out of the bay, stopping dead in her tracks. Everyone just sort of froze for a millisecond.
"Ah," Sam started, figuring introductions were a good place to start. "Hey, Liv."
Dean had moved around Rand and took a place next to Liv, canting his head ever so slightly so she could give him his customary morning peck on the cheek. It was so automatic that he didn't even think the two of them were aware of it at all anymore.
"This is John," Dean introduced quietly, adding, "Winchester. Sam's father. He's offered to help us out for a few days while he's in town."
Liv's quick, assessing gaze scanned John from head to toe, before cutting briefly to Sam. Smiling, she held out her hand. "It's a pleasure to meet you," Liv said genuinely.
"I assure you," John said as he took Liv's hand and brought it to his lips, his voice a deep rumbling purr, “The pleasure is all mine."
Liv blinked, speechless, a pale blush blossoming on her face.
Oh, my God, Sam thought. His dad was not flirting with Liv. Sam met Dean's surprised and equally mortified gaze.
"I hear you've been taking good care of my boy here," John continued, holding Liv's gaze with quiet, but heartfelt sincerity, "I can't thank you enough for that."
And suddenly it made sense. John wasn't flirting. He was showing gratitude the only way he could.
Liv cleared her throat and took her hand back, flustered. Sam and Rand almost laughed out loud when Dean did a double take, eyes widening in disbelief at her reaction.
"Sam's become a member of the family, Mr. Winchester," Liv said, recovering nicely. "It was no hardship, I assure you."
"Please, call me John."
Okay, this was getting way too freaky.
"Liv?" Dean said, moving closer to her, almost protectively. "Can I talk to you for a sec?"
Rand followed them back into the garage, turning to Sam as he did so. "Whenever, you're ready..."
"Yeah, be right there."
Sam just looked at John. He knew his father could be charming when he had to be. It just didn't happen very often. And to see such a genuine display?
"What?" John asked defensive.
"Nothin'," Sam said, because really, what could he say?
Whatever Dean said to Liv, she seemed perfectly fine with the extra hand as she disappeared up the stairs to the office. John and Dean spent most of the day with their heads together, rebuilding the transmission for Jorem's Chevelle.
Every so often, Sam would feel Dean's gaze. He'd look up, catch his eye and they'd share a smile. It took longer than it probably should have, but eventually Sam noticed that Rand was keeping a close eye on his brother as well, his gaze alternating between curious and concerned. It wasn't until Sam considered the situation from an outside point of view that he began to pay closer attention.
Dean and John didn't give the impression they'd met just a few hours ago. While their interaction was purposely low key, they were entirely too comfortable in each other's spaces, conveyed too much in the looks that passed between them. Sam made a point of keeping Rand busy and distracted for the remainder of the day, but there wasn't much he could do about Liv. Several times, he spied her watching his brother from the upstairs office window.
Dean ordered pizza for lunch and they ate upstairs with Liv where it was cooler. Conversation was deliberately work-related and filled with light, cordial banter. Liv joined in the discussion often, and while Sam got the impression that his father was mildly impressed with her general knowledge of auto mechanics, Sam clearly recognized the look in her eyes as she subtly watched them interact. It was only a matter of time before she started asking questions.
By the time 5:00 pm rolled around, the lack of sleep the night before was tugging at all of the Winchesters. John and Sam kept Rand company as he waited for Tess to pick him up while Liv took the opportunity to pull Dean aside, her hand on the side of his face as she talked privately to him. She was worried about him, that much was obvious. Sam could tell that it weighed heavily on Dean that he couldn't yet reassure her. Not until he knew exactly what spin, if any, he was going to put on the whole situation.
Eventually, Liv went on her way with a wave in their direction, just as Tess arrived.
"Everything okay?" Sam asked once they were alone.
"Yeah," Dean answered, then added reluctantly, "she wants me to see a neurologist."
John nodded thoughtfully. "That’s probably not a bad idea, kiddo."
Dean didn't disagree, but he certainly didn't look happy about it either. As a matter of fact, he looked dead on his feet, despite the fact that out of the three of them, he'd gotten the most sleep last night.
"Go home, son," John ordered when Dean seemed reluctant to leave. "Get some rest. You're exhausted. Sam and I will be fine. We're not going anywhere, I promise."
"Yeah," Sam agreed. "We'll meet you right back here tomorrow, dude. Get a good night's sleep."
Sam suspected Dean felt bad about not being able to offer them a bed at his place, but they all knew that it would be too confusing and disruptive for Isabella. Not to mention what it would say to Liv.
Much to Sam's surprise, John stayed in town for the entire week. There were a few clandestine calls and a heated exchange with someone whom Sam assumed was Caleb, but other than that, his father seemed content to stick around. He knew that it wouldn't last, but it was more than he'd hoped for.
Dean had them over for dinner after work a couple of different nights and they'd stayed long into the evening after Isabella had been tucked in. Sam knew his brother well enough to know that he felt a little guilty about excluding Liv, but he was also fairly certain that Dean was already working out the details of what he was going to reveal to her.
Sam discovered pretty quickly that John's charm didn't just work on Liv. Apparently, it extended to Isabella as well. He was actually a little envious at how quickly the two of them hit it off. Isabella didn't so much as bat an eyelash at the 'sweetheart' that John bestowed upon her every chance he got. Less than two days and the man was completely wrapped around her finger.
One evening John offered to tuck Isabella in and Sam with his brother listened downstairs on the monitor as he read Isabella her bedtime story. She'd had her heart set on The Very Hungry Caterpillar but John swayed her to The Poky Little Puppy with one simple sentence
“This was your daddy's favorite story when he was your age..."
The small smirk teasing the corners of his mouth disappeared as Sam caught a glance of the troubled expression that Dean wasn’t quite quick enough to hide. He didn’t remember.
"Hey," Sam said, drawing Dean's gaze. Its okay
Dean smiled sadly and turned the game back on.
-wWw-
John cut out of work early on Friday, bidding farewell to Rand and promising Liv he would be in attendance for dinner on Sunday. Unbeknown to Liv, Dean had arranged for John to pick Isabella up early from daycare so they could spend the afternoon together. In fact, Dean had surprised them both by adding Sam’s and John's names to the list of people who were allowed to pick Isabella up from Miss Chloe's. It wasn't exactly a secret, but they kept it low key. If Liv got wind of it, there would definitely be some explaining to do.
It was quite possible that Dean questioned the wisdom of that decision when dinnertime rolled around. Sam was tossing together a salad to go with the chicken his brother had just grilled when John casually informed them that he and Isabella had already eaten. At McDonald’s. Sam arched a brow, lips pursed as he turned away from the expression on Dean's face.
Sam had once, a few months back, offered to treat father and daughter to lunch only to have Dean politely but adamantly refuse the invitation. For all that the golden arches had been a staple for them growing up, Dean refused to defile Isabella's palate with such food. As far as Sam knew, Isabella had never experienced a Happy Meal. Until today.
Dean had frozen at the comment, jaw tight. John was completely oblivious to any wrongdoing as he helped himself to a beer and disappeared into the living room with Isabella. Sam watched the brief struggle play out on his brother's face. There was nothing he could do about it now and it was the one and possibly the only time John would spend the afternoon with his granddaughter. He let it go but for the very justified glare in his father's direction later that evening when Isabella's bedtime was marred by a tummy ache.
-wWw-
Saturday brought a family day that would forever bring forth warm memories and laughter. With a cooler full of food and an Impala full of Winchesters, they headed east for the hour long drive it would take to reach the ocean. Liv had been invited but was already committed to a church event for the day so there was no need for anyone to watch what they said. Isabella was smart as a whip for her age, but she was just too young to really pick up on or understand the subtext of what was happening between the adults. The relief Sam felt almost made him feel guilty. He knew how important Liv was to Dean.
The beach was crowded with sunbathers and surfers as they entered the public access area. Yet for those willing to walk the distance, there were more secluded spots along the mile and a half stretch of beach. They trudged through the sand with Isabella perched high on Sam's shoulders. Dean seemed to have a specific destination in mind. Sam followed him, trying not to picture his brother here in another time...with someone else.
As they set up the sun umbrella that Dean swore was to protect Isabella's fair skin, Sam realized why Dean had chosen this particular spot. While the tide was still relatively high, it was beginning to recede, revealing a small sandbar not too far from shore. Eventually it would leave a small pool of shallow water for Isabella to safely play in.
They spent the day collecting sea shells, building sand castles, and racing in and out of the surf. It turned out that wave-hopping was Isabella's absolute favorite thing to do. She could do it for hours. Literally. They all took turns distracting her with other things, but she always came back to the waves - and of course, it was more fun with company. By lunchtime, she wasn't the only one who was tuckered out.
They ate in the shade of the umbrella, Dean relaxing back against the cooler, Isabella in his lap as she finished her sandwich. He covered her with more sunscreen, but didn't seem all that surprised when she just leaned back against him, tired. It was a quiet, tranquil moment with the warmth of the sun around them, the sound of the waves rhythmic and peaceful. Isabella eventually gave into the lure of sleep and turned in Dean's arms, sprawling across his chest.
Dean supported her weight with his left arm, resting one hand on her back, thumb gently stroking the skin between her shoulder blades. Eventually, Sam and John realized that Dean was someplace else, his eyes distant and lost as he gazed over Isabella's shoulder. They shared a glance, but let him be.
When he did come back to them, Dean's sharp gaze cut to John, a subtle fragility lurking beneath the surface. Sam automatically leaned closer, offering support. John shifted at the scrutiny but held his son's gaze. Waiting.
"You set this up, didn't you?" Dean's voice was quietly intense, low in deference to Isabella. "This life...me..." Dean swallowed, "Jenna. You set it all in motion."
John sighed. Sam could tell he hadn’t wanted to go there.
"Let's get something straight," he said. Sam tensed at the words, despite the gentle tone in which they were delivered. "You. Jenna. What you had between you. That love. That was real."
Dean's eyes watered.
"That is what set this in motion," John said, then with no hint of apology, added, “all I did was make it a reality."
Dean didn't seem to know how to respond to the sentiment or the tone.
"Jenna offered you the home I always wanted for you. She was smart, beautiful, and feisty enough not to put up with any of your crap,” John said with a dimpled grin and a heartfelt attempt to lighten the mood.
Dean smiled through watery eyes, voice thick with tears and surprise. "You liked her." It was obvious how much that meant to him.
"Yeah," John agreed quietly, holding his son's gaze, "I did."
Dean sniffed surreptitiously, looking away, unconsciously pulling Isabella closer. When John glanced his way, Sam did his best to look supportive and show how much he approved of how his father was handling the situation.
"I can't help but wonder,” Dean said a few minutes later, “if she had known..." about the hunting, "if that would have changed...how she felt."
Sam could tell that it hurt his brother just to think about it.
"She knew," John said, clarifying when Dean's eyes flew to his. "Not specifically, but she knew. She'd catalogued every scar on your body before you came out of the coma, talked with me enough to get some sense of our lifestyle." John paused, "She thought you deserved more." Another pause, this one longer, John making sure he had Dean's attention. "So did I."
Dean gave a small nod, more to himself, having gotten whatever information or confirmation he'd been looking for from his father.
"Dean," John continued, "It was never about not wanting you with me...you know that...right?" Please, God, tell me you know that. And Sam saw it, that look on his father's face, the look that made him wonder how he could've ever questioned this man's love for him or his brother.
Eyes still bright, Dean nodded, but it was a little uncertain, his expression a little too serious. Like just maybe there'd been a part of him that entertained the notion, if only briefly, and could now let it go. His smile was wobbly but genuine.
"It doesn't matter," Dean said, “I mean, yeah, it does, but..." He glanced at John gratefully, his hand going to the back of Isabella's head as he pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Whatever your reasons...I can't thank you enough."
Sam thought John actually looked a little stunned at that. Dean didn't seem to notice. He held Isabella close to him like the treasure she was, the line of his jaw resting atop golden tresses that danced in the ocean breeze.
-wWw-
Sunday morning, John shocked them all when he showed up just in time for the morning worship service. Defensive, he glared at the look of surprise he saw on his son’s faces. Ignoring them, he sat next to Liv and Isabella.
Later that evening, Sam helped Liv in the kitchen while Dean and John watched the game in the other room. Spooky was intermittently underfoot as Isabella paraded back and forth between rooms, keeping tabs on everyone. Sam had expected an interrogation of sorts once they were alone, but Liv surprised him. He’d noticed that, while she continued to watch them and sensed that something was amiss, she’d backed off a little. Sam could only surmise that she was trusting Dean to come to her when he was ready. Sam started to let his guard down in her presence again.
During dinner John informed them that he'd be returning to work and had to head out later that evening. Dean was the only one who didn't look surprised, and Sam was glad for that. John must have told him privately. Everyone looked disappointed, and Sam was surprised to find that he was too. For the first time in a very long time, they'd felt like an honest to God normal family.
Liv plied them all with leftovers as they left. While Sam and Dean were both good about returning their containers each week, it seemed Liv had an endless supply of Tupperware. She told John not to worry about returning his and kissed him on the cheek as he left.
"It was a pleasure to meet you, John," she said sincerely as they parted. "You're welcome to join us anytime you're near enough for a visit."
"Thanks." John's smile was genuine and grateful, "I'll do my best to take you up on that."
“I’ll keep my eye on this one for you,” Liv said with a playful glance at Sam, her words slightly territorial as if reminding John that Sam was his and Dean was hers, “keep him out of trouble.”
John's smile deepened as he glanced at his boys. "Good luck with that."
Sam and Dean looked at each other, brows raised, as Liv and John shared a chuckle at their expense. Sam followed his father out the door, pausing for peck from Liv. "See you tomorrow, Sam."
"'Night," he said, looking back at his brother and Isabella as he left.
When they got back to the motel, Sam helped John pack his things and carry everything out to the truck.
"Where you headed?" he asked.
John eyed him as he climbed into the truck, resting his arm on the open window. "Tucson"
"You got a line on something?" The last thing he wanted to do was talk about hunting, but it seemed it was one of the only things he had in common with his father these days.
"As a matter of fact..." John left it hanging, sighed in exasperation when Sam continued to look at him expectantly. "You can't have it both ways, Sam. If you’re not gonna help me out, you're better off not knowing. You've got a life here, you and your brother. Just...be happy. Enjoy it."
The sincere words touched him and put the beginnings of a lump formed in his throat. "I will," Sam said. "Be safe, dad."
John gave him a rueful smile. "That's always the plan."
Yeah, and Sam knew how those plans usually turned out. "Try harder," he said, softening the words with a crooked smile.
John reached out, placed a hand on the side of Sam's face, touch unexpectedly gentle. "I'm proud of you, son."
Sam looked at him, surprised.
"You've always known what you wanted and you went after it." John continued. "Hell, it got us your brother back. Guess I can't bitch about what a stubborn ass you are with a pay off like that."
Whoa, kettle. Have you met pot?
"Keep in touch," Sam said.
Sam had the good grace to be sheepish at the look John gave him at that.
"Take care of them, Sam," John said as he began backing out the truck.
He planned to. Dean. Isabella. Liv. They were his family, his responsibility. He'd do whatever he had to, to protect them. "Yes, sir."
Sam watched John's truck disappear, knowing that part of the reason John was so affable upon his departure was because he assumed that whatever non-brotherly feelings existed between his sons was now a non-issue. It was obvious that Dean didn't remember everything. They'd yet to sit down and really discuss it, but there were definitely gaps in his brother's memory. John was apparently comfortable in this being one of them.
Indeed, Sam had not seen one shred of evidence to the contrary. Not once had Dean given him any indication that he loved Sam in any other way than that of a brother. Sam couldn't deny his disappointment, but he'd meant what he said. It was enough just to have Dean back in his life - in any capacity. He'd come to terms with the rest. He had to.
Once he was sure Isabella would be in bed, Sam made his way to Dean's house. It was just after 9:00 and all the lights were out save for Isabella's little pink nightlight. The crescent moon gave just enough light for Sam to make out Dean's silhouette on the roof.
"Hey," he said, looking up at his brother. Dean sat with his legs bent, forearms resting on his knees, beer in one hand.
"Grab a beer," he said, "come on up."
Sam grabbed a couple and climbed out the window, joining Dean on the eave. He couldn't help but think back to when he'd first arrived in town and had sat in his car on the street, longing to be with his brother.
"Dad stop by?" he asked.
"Yeah," Dean said.
Sam hesitated, "You okay?"
Out of the corner of his eye he saw Dean purse his lips, thinking about the question before he took another swig of his beer.
"It's weird, you know,” Dean said. "Being left behind. I thought it would bother me more than it did."
Sam did too.
"I mean the hunt part." Dean clarified. "I hated to see dad leave, but I just...I don't feel that itch to move on like I used to."
One of the first things Sam had noted in his brother as they got to know each other again was that Dean was basically still Dean. Much of his personality had remained the same, albeit toned down a bit, despite the memory loss. Yet he was content in a way that Sam had never witnessed before, had never really thought possible. Gone was the restlessness and recklessness that had always simmered just beneath the surface.
"Anyway," Dean said, breaking Sam out of his thoughts, but not looking at him. "What about you? Where you headed?"
Sam looked at him in shock, absently noting how guarded his brother was. "What do you mean?"
"It's not working out for you," Dean reminded him of his words that day at the park. "Time to move on. Ring any bells?"
Sam hadn't forgotten, but so much had changed, the reason behind his decision was no longer an issue.
"Dean," Sam geared up to explain that the only reason he was going to leave was that he was causing Dean pain and that he couldn't continue to do that. Whatever the reasoning, it just didn't matter anymore. He didn't want to waste time on explanations. Just wanted his brother to know where he stood now. "I'm not going anywhere."
At Sam's firm but gentle promise, Dean finally met his gaze, searching. Whatever he saw put him at ease. Dean relaxed back against the roof and Sam went with him, their legs bent at the knees as they gazed up at the star splashed sky.
Sam couldn't help but think of Jenna. Could hear in his head the haunting lullaby that would always remind him of her.
I see the moon,
the moon sees me.
Down through the leaves
of the old oak Tree.
Please let the light that shines on me
Shine on the ones I love...
Sam knew that Jenna would forever hold a special place in Dean's heart. It had taken some time, but Sam realized he was okay with that. His brother had a big heart. There was room enough for both of them.
And besides, Isabella owned it all lock, stock and barrel. There was no disputing that.
"Why're you here, Sam?" Dean asked. The question seemed almost flippant. The distinctly vague way in which it was asked alerting Sam to the importance of both the question and his response.
Because you're my brother. Because I love you. Because I can't imagine my life without you. Because, really, where else would I be?
Sam tried to encompass it all in one simple statement, let every bit of the love he felt infuse the words. "Because there's no place else I'd rather be."
Everything Sam had done since turning up in Dean's life had been geared towards showing his brother exactly how much he loved him. Dean would either see it for what it was or, Sam dared hope, see it for what it could be.
Dean didn't say anything. Not for a long time. The words lingered between them. Sam took a deep breath, clinging to the tiny spark of hope he refused to let go. Told himself it was okay either way. He had his brother back. That's what mattered. And he believed it. He did. He just...
Sam was so distracted by his internal pep talk that it caught him completely off guard when Dean's hand slipped into his. The unusual display of affection rendered him speechless. He turned to look at his brother who resolutely and steadfastly ignored him. Cautiously, Sam turned his hand and laced their fingers together giving an experimental squeeze. If he hadn't been looking at Dean when he did it he'd have missed the subtle twitch of his brother’s lips. Realization belatedly dawned. That sonova…
A huge, goofy grin spread slowly across Sam’s face as he continued to gaze at his stone-faced brother.
"You friggin' jerk," his voice low but undeniably affectionate.
Sam slowly turned his gaze back to the stars, but couldn't manage to tone down the grin. It had a life of its own.
"Shaaaadup," Dean drawled self-consciously. And...wait for it... “Bitch."
If possible, Sam's smile grew wider.
Yeah, everything was going to be just fine.
Epilogue.